


Shall I Stay?

by WallabyKangerooAmbiguous



Series: Only Fools Rush In [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Christmas Party, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallabyKangerooAmbiguous/pseuds/WallabyKangerooAmbiguous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m heading out,” Grantaire announces as they go back out into the living room, shrugging his coat on. “And I’m giving Enjolras a ride.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” Courfeyrac says from the couch, and he downright giggles when Ferre punches him mockingly in the shoulder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shall I Stay?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm procrastinating (putting off homework and writing a longer fic that I need to finish) and someone requested a sequel to Only Fools Rush In. Here you are, Enjolras and Grantaire hooking up (again) this time complete with some feels and even the smallest semblance of plot. This wasn't beta'd because I am too lazy to find someone to beta my shit and none of my friends want to read my porn. Anywho, if you spot any typos feel free to point them out.

“So you carry the two -” Gavroche says, scribbling on his paper, “and then you add it?”

“Precisely,” Grantaire responds, smiling encouragingly. “There, see? You’ve got it. Try one on your own now.” He sits back to watch and hears a commotion from the kitchen, but Gav distracts him with a question and he’s forced to ignore the kitchen for now. “That’s exactly right, Gav!” He praises, and Gavroche positively grins. “I’m going to go see what ‘Ponine is making for supper; you stay here and finish up with your problems.”

He ruffles Gavroche’s hair and stands, heading into the kitchen with Éponine’s name forming on his lips. He stops short, however, just inside the archway, when he sees Enjolras emerging from the bedroom with a triumphant grin on his face. “Oh, R, hello!” He says, all too cheerful, and Grantaire is suspicious immediately.

“Evening, Enj.” He says, trying to keep any caginess out of his voice. Enjolras is never simply cheerful. Something has happened, and Grantaire doubts he’ll be in the loop any time soon. He turns to Éponine now and says, “your ward wants to know what’s for dinner.”

“Cream of mushroom soup,” ‘Ponine responds without looking at him, having turned away to plunk some mushrooms into a bubbling pot. “It’ll be done soon. Has he finished his homework?”

“Almost,” Grantaire responds, going over to the fridge and grabbing a beer. He pops it open and heads back to the living room, swatting Enj on the ass as he passes behind him. Enjolras hisses and fixes him with a disapproving look and Éponine doesn’t even blink, simply takes a sip from the almost comically large wine glass she has on the counter beside her and pulls out her phone to rattle off a text. 

“Tell us when it’s done,” R calls over his shoulder, returning to the living room and sitting down, looking at a problem that Gav tells him he’s struggling with. “Well, that won’t do,” Grantaire says, and he gets right down to helping Gavroche. He doesn’t even notice Enjolras’ face as he observes from the kitchen arch. The blonde looks almost wistful, a soft smile on his face and a beer in his hand. He’s _so_ fucked.

*

At the party the next day, Grantaire understands Enjolras’ triumphant grin. Because, when R arrives to Jehan’s annual ugly sweater party, Éponine is being heralded as having the ugliest ugly sweater of them all. _Revenge,_ Grantaire thinks, snorting softly when he realizes what Enjolras has done. He snakes over to Éponine, smirking slyly. “Nice sweater, ‘Ponine,” Grantaire says, trying and failing to expel the grin from his face. He can’t help it; she just looks so ridiculous. “Gavroche knit that for you?”

“Fuck off,” Éponine says, and Grantaire laughs before weaving his way through the party, greeting friends and making his way towards the kitchen to get a drink. Jehan compliments him on his sweater and grins dopily when R asks if they’ve seen Enjolras.

“I haven’t, unfortunately, but I’ll be on the lookout,” Jehan says, winking at Grantaire and slipping off into the party. Grantaire heads off to the kitchen, wandering around and eating snacks for a while. People come in and make conversation. He and Combeferre have a nice conversation about possible birthday gift ideas. Grantaire recommends art supplies and Combeferre talks about how much he loves moths, and Grantaire is already thinking of things to do with that. Courfeyrac comes in a few moments later, slipping an arm around Ferre’s waist and joining in their conversation for a while before he and Combeferre wander off and leave Grantaire alone.

R speaks with Joly for a while about easy food ideas that would be quick and healthy, because Joly is basically a health encyclopedia and Grantaire’s diet is terrible. Musichetta, who has come looking for Joly, is friendly and they have a good conversation about literature until Jehan calls for everyone to open gifts.

Grantaire, Joly, and Musichetta go into the living room and go over to sit by Bossuet. Grantaire spots Enjolras and Éponine, sitting across the room, and can’t help but notice the tight pants Enjolras is wearing. His hair is tied back with a red ribbon and he’s in a loose-fitting blue sweater with red patterns knit into it. Gavroche is sitting on Éponine’s other side, looking sleepy already.

The first gift goes from Combeferre to Courfeyrac. Courf opens the box, making jokes that are probably less than appropriate for Gavroche to be hearing, but he falls silent when he pulls a soft blue dog collar out of the box. He looks at Ferre with shining eyes, asking softly, “are we -”

“We’re getting a puppy, Courf,” Combeferre confirms, and it’s almost sickeningly cute the way Courfeyrac throws his arms around Combeferre, mumbling ‘thank you’s into Ferre’s shoulder.

Grantaire finds himself smiling, and then a gift is being handed to him. It’s from Éponine. He opens it and finds an assortment of different snacks and chocolates. At the bottom is a card that reads -

_Hey loser,_

_I know I’m not the mushy type but the other day you told me you haven’t had a drink since November and I’m proud of you, you big lug. Enjoy your chocolate; it was expensive as hell._

_\- ‘Ponine_

Grantaire grins and wipes away a tear he hadn’t noticed when he’d been reading the card. “Thanks, Ép,” he says, sniffling pitifully, and grins when Joly throws an arm around his shoulders and pulls him in. Quitting has been really, really hard and he isn’t even anywhere close to actually putting down alcohol for good but his friends are supporting him and it’s the best feeling in the world to know that.

The next gifts go between Musichetta, Joly, and Bossuet, consisting of a collection of four leaf clovers from Joly to Bossuet - “for luck,” he laughs, as Bossuet plants a kiss on his cheek and tucks some four leaf clovers into Chetta’s hair while she opens her gift from him, a really nice copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ \- among other things.

Gifts take at least an hour, and by the time they’re done Gavroche is utterly swamped in toys. Éponine announces that she has to get Gav home and departs after being practically drowned in hugs and ‘merry Christmas’s. All the gifts are wonderful, but Grantaire can’t help feeling sore about the fact that Enjolras hasn’t gotten him a gift. He’s sure Enjolras has just forgotten, but that makes it worse, because it means that Enjolras has _forgotten_ about him, even after they’ve been fucking for a couple months. It’s good, Grantaire supposes, because it reminds him, no matter how painfully, that Enjolras cares about him only when they’ve climbed into bed (or up against a wall, or, very memorably, the time Enj had crowded R up against ‘Ponine’s counter after they’d put Gavroche to bed). They’re not a couple no matter how much Grantaire wants it, and this is a stinging reminder not to take too much for fear of being pushed away completely.

He’s sulking in self-pity when Enjolras grabs his wrist and pulls him down a hallway which is mostly dark, the only light coming from the bathroom. “Here,” Enjolras says, handing a box to Grantaire. “I wanted to give it to you personally.”

Grantaire takes the box gingerly, like it might break. He opens it, untying the ribbon and taking the wrapping paper off. Inside is a box of oil pastels, and when he opens them and runs one over his wrist he’s taken aback at the quality of it. “Enjolras…” he breathes, looking from the box to Enjolras and back. “These are beautiful.”

Enjolras seems nervous now, shifting back and forth on his feet, and leans forward to kiss Grantaire softly. Grantaire smiles into it. When Enj steps back, he points upwards and grins sheepishly. “Mistletoe.” He explains, and upon looking up, Grantaire sees the green mistletoe that he hadn’t noticed previously. “I’m really tired, though,” from the tone in his voice and the look on his face, Grantaire knows he’s not tired at all. “Take me home?”

Grantaire can’t find his coat fast enough.

“I’m heading out,” Grantaire announces as they go back out into the living room, shrugging his coat on. “And I’m giving Enjolras a ride.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” Courfeyrac says from the couch, and he downright giggles when Ferre punches him mockingly in the shoulder.

Jehan comes over and hugs Grantaire and Enjolras in turn, thanking them for coming, and everyone says goodbye and thanks them for their gifts as they go outside towards R’s car. “Your place or mine?” He asks, sorting casually through his keys to find his car key.

“Doesn’t matter,” Enjolras says, walking peacefully beside Grantaire. Normally they’re fast and needy and Grantaire is actually surprised at how calm Enj seems. “Just wanna fuck you.”

_There it is_ , R thinks, but he’s not complaining. They get to his car and he climbs in, starting it up and strapping himself in. “Yours it is, then,” he says, pulling out of Jehan’s driveway. Enjolras’ house is nicer than his own, and he figures if they’re going to fuck they might as well do it in a nice environment.

They drive along in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. By the time they pull into Enjolras’ driveway, they’re holding hands on the armrest.

They unlock the door and they’re barely even inside before Grantaire’s back is pushed up against it, his mouth suddenly covered by Enjolras’ own. He kisses back, his arms going around Enjolras’ waist as the blonde’s fingers dig into his upper arms. “Upstairs,” Enj growls, and Grantaire scrambles to comply. He goes upstairs with Enjolras right behind him, and finds himself almost tackled against a wall upon reaching the top. Enjolras is making soft noises in his throat and Grantaire feels himself responding equally desperately. “Bed, now, please… need you… fuck, need you so bad.” He’s mumbling, and Grantaire feels like his heart swells so much it explodes.

He feels Enjolras’ fist closing around his wrist and he’s pulled down the hallway, into the familiar surroundings of Enjolras’ room. Enj’s hand goes from around his waist to pulling at his sweatshirt, and all Grantaire can do is put his arms over his head and let Enjolras tug at it until it’s off. Grantaire does the same, shucking Enjolras’ sweater aside and unable to stop the breath he sucks in at the sight of his lover’s bare torso. He’s seen it so many times that you would think they could forego this reaction, but Enjolras is so fucking otherworldly, can you really blame him? “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes, but he doesn’t get anything else out because Enj is pushing him back until he’s on the bed and straddling him and leaning in to latch onto his neck.

“Gonna take you apart,” he’s mumbling, reaching out blindly and yanking the lube and condoms out of the drawer. “Gonna make you howl and writhe and beg before I’m even inside you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, the mouth on you,” Grantaire groans, and Enjolras smirks at him. He presses his lips to Grantaire’s again as he undoes the buttons on R’s jeans, pushing them down (the position is less than comfortable for a moment but neither of them really cares) until Grantaire can kick them the rest of the way off. He works his way slowly, almost reverently, down the brunette’s torso, pressing kisses to his neck and collarbone, a soft press of lips to his sternum and lapping his tongue over Grantaire’s nipples, and then he ghosts his lips down, over the tattoo on R’s right hip - it’s a giraffe, and he had gotten it on a dare a month or so after he and Enjolras had met, but Enj always pays it special attention because he thinks it’s cute or something, Grantaire isn’t sure - and then he settles on his elbows between R’s thighs. He drizzles some of the lube over his fingers, pressing little kisses to the cynic’s thighs while he warms it up.

Grantaire is panting, breathing hard through his nose, as Enj reaches up and trails lube covered fingers down his stomach, stopping once more on the tattoo, and over his thighs. By the time Enjolras reaches his hole he’s desperate for it, forcing himself to relax so Enjolras only teases for a bit before deeming Grantaire ready. He pushes in relatively quickly and R is glad, because he really doesn’t think he can handle too much teasing. Enjolras seems to feel the same, because he doesn’t waste too much time before adding a second finger and scissoring them. He crooks them, seeking, looking, until he finds the spot that makes Grantaire squirm and howl, causes him to sob raggedly and writhe and twist and thrash. He keeps his fingers there, pressing against it, until Grantaire begs.

It’s hard to string words together at the moment, but Grantaire manages. He doesn’t make phrases, really, just cries out brokenly, “fucking - Enjolras, please, _please_ , fuck me, Enjolras… need it so bad… oh, _God_ -”

Finally, the blonde eases up on Grantaire’s prostate and pulls his fingers back just slightly to add a third. He’s efficient now, adding some more lube - which is cold this time, and it makes Grantaire hiss - and scissoring until he figures Grantaire is ready. He pulls his fingers out and Grantaire shudders, feeling suddenly empty. Enj tears a condom open with his teeth and rolls it on before coming up to kiss R. He slicks himself up and lines up with Grantaire’s hole. He pushes in slowly, bottoming out and smiling against his lover’s lips when R cries out. “So fucking pretty like this,” he growls, biting at Grantaire’s ear.

“Move, goddamn it,” Grantaire demands, and Enjolras actually has the nerve to chuckle lowly before pulling out almost all the way and moving forward again. They establish a rhythm, and it’s very nice, getting faster and more desperate the longer they go for. Eventually they’re fucking in earnest, like animals, growled pleas and breathy moans until Enjolras reaches down and runs his hand jerkily over Grantaire’s cock, smiling proudly when R lets out a whining moan and comes all over their stomachs. Enjolras follows, not far behind, pulling out gingerly and grinning when R makes a soft keening sound at the lost.

Grantaire doesn’t watch what he’s doing, just lies on the bed completely fucked out until he feels Enjolras cleaning him off with a fluffy towel. “Thanks,” he murmurs, sighing softly when Enj climbs into bed and wraps his arms around him.

Enjolras makes a pleased humming sound, kissing the top of R’s head and pulling at the covers until they’re lying under them. “No problem,” he murmurs. “You spending the night?”

“You want me to?” Grantaire asks, looking up at Enjolras with raised eyebrows. They only ever sleep over when one is too drunk to drive home. Enj shrugs, smiling hopefully. Grantaire tries to keep himself from grinning like a moron when he mumbles something that might be able to pass for “sure” and turns on his side to bury his face in Enjolras’ (incredibly nice-smelling) chest. “Smell good,” R murmurs, his words slurred from sudden exhaustion. He realizes how late it is, suddenly, and also how tired he is.

“Go to sleep, love,” Enj says, kissing the top of his head again. Grantaire, even in his current state, feels his heart grow three sizes. He’s never taken Enjolras for the pet name type, and especially not the type to assign pet names to _Grantaire_ , of all people.

That said, R isn’t going to complain, not even a little bit. No, he just smiles to himself and squeezes Enjolras impossibly closer and allows himself to drift off to sleep.


End file.
